


Even If I Told Him Myself

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-05
Updated: 2003-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-26 09:52:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl





	Even If I Told Him Myself

The clear cool light of morning did not, initially, lend itself to coherent thought. Frodo's first, vague notion was that he must not be in the same place he fell asleep, because when he fell asleep it was dark, and this place was bright. The night had gone on so long, and had been so intense, he had suspected that it must be everlasting. He was fully prepared to spend the rest of his life in the clutches of a thick, warm darkness penetrated only by the crisp light of pillar-mounted lanterns.

Now there was this new light, unnatural in it's naturalness. Frodo closed his eyes and felt around for the sheet, yanking it over his head to deflect the brightness. Then, a second notion, only slightly more lucid, came creeping: he was not alone in this bed. But that was alright with him, for now. Surely the Elves had figured out about him and Sam, so it didn't matter if they were found here together. Unless this was Elrond's bed they were in. Frodo smiled and tried to go back to sleep. But now there were fingertips trailing over his back. He felt them individually, like spider-paws, as they landed one after another between his shoulder blades and drew oblong spirals. Frodo squirmed a bit to acknowledge that he enjoyed the attention, but then whispered sternly, "It's too early for that, Sam. Let me sleep a little longer."

A deep, coarse voice replied, "It's not Sam."

Frodo sat up and twisted round with a wheeze of surprise. He beheld Aragorn, a dark shadow of a Man against the clean white sheets, smiling through a haze of mischievous sleepiness

"It's true that you've had but a few hours of sleep," Aragorn said, "but so have I, and I'm ready for another bout."

" _Another_ bout?" Frodo looked around for any sign of what he had done last night. This room was not his; it clearly belonged to someone who kept a permanent residence in Rivendell. There was an empty bottle of wine on the table by the door.

Aragorn caught Frodo looking at it. "We didn't have that much to drink," he said. "If you just think for a moment..."

"No, no, I remember now," Frodo said, which was partly true. He looked over the side of the bed and remembered that he had insisted on climbing up into it himself, rather than let Aragorn lift him up there like a child. And he remembered that after that, they'd had a bit of an argument over who was going to do what to whom, because it had only just occurred to them that there were some physiological obstacles. Truth be told, by that time they were so tired, the settlement they reached had more to do with simplicity and speed than anything else. Aragorn had taken Frodo in his hand, and Frodo had taken Aragorn in both his hands, and after cleaning each other up they immediately fell asleep. It was not to be remembered as a romantic evening.

"Oh, Strider, I'm so sorry," Frodo said.

"Why should you be sorry? It was not unpleasant. How could I have resisted such a charming proposition?"

Frodo was suddenly defensive. "Well, when you Men want to go to bed with someone, don't you just _ask_ them?"

"I suppose, yes. But you must admit, crawling into my lap with a drink in your hand and asking me to show you to a place where no one would notice us removing each other's clothing...it is somewhat direct?"

Frodo blinked. "I don't remember that. Oh, wait, now I do. Ugh." He threw himself back down onto the bolster and tried to hide under the blankets.

"Oh come now, Frodo, we had fun."

"Did we?"

"Trust me."

"Hmm. Well," Frodo said, still under the covers, "would you really like to do it again?"

Aragorn answered by reaching beneath the blankets and caressing the first part of Frodo's anatomy that he encountered; in this case, a thigh. He lured Frodo over to him with more teasing touches, and took an armful of hobbit as soon as he was able. Frodo was just as receptive as Aragorn remembered him as being the night before, though not so aggressive in the light of day. Aragorn was able to roll him over onto his back, and laid half on top of him, smothering him with kisses both demanding and grateful. Frodo kissed back, rapidly losing his breath. He was pushing against Aragorn with his whole body, but Aragorn couldn't tell if he was demonstrating his enthusiasm or just begging Aragorn to get off him lest he be crushed. Aragorn shifted his weight to one elbow and leaned over Frodo, pushing to get between his legs. When Frodo complied, Aragorn rubbed his hard member against Frodo's thighs, and further up.

"Oh, no, we can't do it that way," Frodo said. "You'll hurt me."

Aragorn was willing to stop if need be, but his voice was strained and coaxing. "We could try."

Frodo scooted back, away from that insistent member. "What about if we tried it the other way around?"

Aragorn tilted his head. "You want to take me?" He could not suppress a laugh.

"Hey! Don't laugh at me!" Frodo, insulted, was overcome by a sudden urge to hit Aragorn, but he'd never hit anyone before and didn't know how to do it correctly, so he kept his arms at his sides.

"Forgive me, Frodo," Aragorn said, still chucking. "It's just, that would look so silly, to do it that way."

"Well it's a silly-looking activity anyway, if that's your only concern. I don't see what difference it makes."

Frodo saw that Aragorn was caught off guard, and used all his weight to give the Man a good shove back onto the bolster. Aragorn landed face down and Frodo leaped on top of him. "Besides, if we did it like this, you wouldn't be able to see how silly it looked anyway. Have you anything to ease the way?"

Aragorn had to think on this a moment, because giving Frodo an answer would mean he was complying. "There's a bottle over there," he said slowly, "in that cabinet. It's green. If you think we'll really need it..."

"I beg your pardon? Are you saying I'm poorly endowed? I'll have you know that among hobbits I'm something of an object of envy."

"I've no doubt of it," Aragorn said, doubtfully.

"Hmph." Frodo went to get the bottle, and Aragorn started to get up. "No," Frodo said, "you stay right where you are! Don't you try to get the upper hand while I'm naked and vulnerable."

Aragorn laid back down and rested his chin on his hands. "I'm naked and vulnerable as well at the moment," he mused.

"Yes," Frodo said, scaling the bed again with the bottle, "but you know how to do things, like kill people with your bare hands. I've only ever known how to steal mushrooms."

"You do have nimble fingers."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Strider. Now spread your legs."

Frodo's firm tone did not betray his inner tumult. His heart raced as he settled in between Aragorn's thighs. Frodo opened the bottle with shaking hands and the glass stopper clinked in a telltale manner. The oil had a sharp, cool smell, but was warm enough between his fingers. In a moment, when Frodo had two of those fingers inside Aragorn, any doubts the Man had about Frodo's ability to pleasure him were obliterated.

"Where is it," Frodo asked, "here?" He moved his fingers about until Aragorn made a strange little noise.

"There," Aragorn managed to say, with no actual vocalization. He clasped his hands over his head, trying to stave off the fundamental uneasiness he felt, having someone inside his body that way.

Frodo, on the other hand, was having fun now. When he took his fingers away, Aragorn made a new noise, an imploring one. Frodo was glad Aragorn could not see the huge grin on his face when he said, with all the solemnity he could muster, "Perhaps you're right, Strider. Perhaps it's a silly idea after all. I think I should just get dressed and go back to my own room to avoid embarrassing myself further." He started to get up, and Aragorn reached back with one arm, obediently refraining, Frodo noticed, from actually getting up. "Master Hobbit, you will stay right there and take me properly, or so help me..."

"Now, now, there's no need for nasty threats. Bit of a joke, that was." Frodo kneeled down again and began to rub the head of his member against Aragorn's thighs, imitating the Man's earlier advances. "You Men have no sense of humor. It's a curse. You know that, right?" Now he was nudging along the cleft of Aragorn's rump with his member, pushing harder when he neared the opening. The slipperiness of the oil guided him right to it, and with one solid thrust he was inside Aragorn.

There was so much of Aragorn to make love to, Frodo feared he wouldn't get to all of him before peaking, or exhausting himself. But at the same time he was excited by the thought of how much effort it would take to satisfy this Man. Frodo leaned forward and laid the length of himself along Aragorn's body, letting the warmth sink into him and giving a little thrust each time he heard the heartbeat coming through Aragorn's ribcage. He smiled to himself. This wouldn't be easy, but he didn't want it to be. He stroked Aragorn's sides, thinking that he might be able to conquer this body after all, but just then Aragorn started to push back. Frodo was jolted, and his hands tightened into fists just so he could hold himself in place. Aragorn lifted his hips to get at his own member so he could pleasure himself, and Frodo was lifted right along. He sat up and tried to right himself, getting his knees back on the bed so he could recover his rhythm.

Frodo could not fool himself any longer that he was in complete control of the situation; rather, he though himself to be a small boat in a rough sea, and everything now depended on not letting the waves get the better of him. He took hold of Aragorn's hips and began thrusting in earnest, grunting with the exertion, caring now not for the pleasure but only for its culmination.

Aragorn, though unable to see what Frodo was doing, was nonetheless excited by the noises he heard behind him. The rhythm of Frodo's cries pushed him closer to rapturous emptiness. When he climaxed, Frodo felt the squeeze of tight muscles around his member, and crumpled atop Aragorn with a shudder. He continued to wriggle his hips, employing the same tempo but now with weak, near-imperceptible strokes. Then they lay very still, their bodies fused with sweat. Frodo felt as though some part of him was still out there on those waves, rocking, and he continued to groan a little with each exhalation. Frodo's weight was no burden to Aragorn, and they nodded off together in that fashion.

Frodo woke up first, with no idea how long he'd dozed. He rose up off of Aragorn and went looking for a place to get cleaned up. He found an adjoining room with a bathtub, but there was no water, save for a small basin in front of the mirror, and he wasn't sure where to retrieve more. So he just washed his face and tried to make his hair presentable. When he returned Aragorn was still snoring. Frodo woke him with a slap on the behind.

Aragorn sat on the edge of the bed and Frodo climbed up next to him and buried his face in Aragorn's neck. "You stink," he said. "You smell like a Man." He giggled. Aragorn leaned down to nose around Frodo's neck and shoulders, ready to retort, but found nothing to complain about. "There is a public bath nearby. Join me?"

Frodo agreed to it, and hopped down to gather his clothes. Whatever he found that wasn't his, he tossed to Aragorn, who was still sleepy. "I'd like to have another tumble with you," Frodo said.

"What, already?"

Frodo laughed. "You think very highly of me. But I just meant sometime soon."

"How will Sam feel about that?"

Frodo was quiet for a moment, and gave no indication that he'd heard the question. But when he was dressed he said, "Sam would never suspect that you and I had gone to bed together. He wouldn't believe it if I told him myself."

"I see. That's sort of a shame; if he's anything like you under the covers, I'd ask you to invite him to join us."

"He'd probably burst into tears if I made such a proposal."

Aragorn opened the door and held it for Frodo, and they stepped into the corridor. "Tears of joy or of anguish?"

"It's hard to tell with Sam," Frodo shrugged. "But perhaps we could at least invite him to bathe with us?"

Aragorn smiled. "That is a phenomenal idea."


End file.
